


Witness

by absoluteMastard



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Apocalypse, Eye Surgery, Eye Trauma, Flashbacks, Gen, Gore, Post Season 4, Post-Possession, Trauma, elias gets punched but he understands, elias just straight up not having a good time, jonah magnus die challenge, no beta readers we die like men, the aftermath of being bodyjacked for decades
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-19
Updated: 2020-03-09
Packaged: 2021-02-13 04:35:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 20,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21488434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/absoluteMastard/pseuds/absoluteMastard
Summary: Jonah becomes King of a Ruined World, and now has no need for a host any longer. Elias Bouchard finally gets his life back just in time for the dawn of the apocalypse.
Comments: 178
Kudos: 482





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> OG Elias, I don't know you at all but I love and miss you. Nothing but respect for Weedman Bouchard.

His vision faded away from his view on Jon as the ritual completed, releasing his compulsion forced on him. The air seemed to ripple about them, distorting and twisting and changing, and then the eyes opened, inescapable and ceaselessly watching, all seemingly turned to him. The Archive was complete, the door opened, and Jonah Magnus had finally won, after centuries of work. With his goal reached, he didn't need to stay reserved anymore. He won, and he earned his victory, embracing the chaos around him, cackling madly.

Elias Bouchard remained silent. He felt vague sadness for this turn of events, but was otherwise numb. His autonomy and general identity had been gone for over two decades now, only a consciousness left lingering in the background while Jonah stole his life. He had long accepted that he wasn’t real anymore, and could never do more than watch it all fall apart by his own hands.

Almost as if on cue with that sentiment, something stirred in him. It started with a twitch in his little finger, moving into sudden pain of the sensation of biting his own lip. _He_ was doing that. After so long being nothing but a disembodied watcher from within, physical sensation was coming back to him. The pain set him quickly into panic, and he realized he could feel the excruciating pounding of his heart, caused by his emotions, not Jonah’s. 'You've played your part, Mr. Bouchard. I suppose I should thank you for the lift.' Jonah said in their shared mindspace. 

Terror seized him. He wasn't ready, he hadn't considered freedom ever coming his way. He lost all hope about a year into his bodyjacking. The idea of being real again was... too much. Easier to be a ghost. Watching everything hurt, but existing now would hurt more than ever. The storms swirled with rage and struck the ground with lightning, dangerously close to him. Close to Them. Elias Bouchard and Jonah Magnus fell to their knees, staring at their hands in front of them. Elias' hands. Agony erupted in his face, and Elias brought his hands to his head, gripping and pulling at his own hair, gasping air in shocked gulps as he remembered the feeling of breathing. Something in his mind felt like it was tearing itself away, the invader that made his home was finally vacating, leaving behind a shell that had long forgotten how to Be. Jonah was leaving. Something hot and wet was streaking down his cheeks; when Elias worked up the strength to wipe it away he saw blood. He blinked through the pain, his eyesight blurry and tinged red. 

He supposed Jonah wanted those back. Elias choked back a cry, the idea of gaining freedom but losing the only sense he could cope with seemed like a cruel joke. He'd be easy bait in this new nightmare hellscape, trying to survive while relearning how to exist again. 'Oh please, Elias. The Eye doesn’t cast out its subjects so recklessly. ' Jonah sounded smug and condescending. Elias could hardly think, he was confused. 'I won't need those eyes anymore. Have them as a parting gift, to remember me by. Use them well, and witness the new world.' 

With that, Jonah left, and Elias collapsed in the grass below him, feeling hollow with the loss.

–

It was silent, for a while. Perhaps The Lonely was surrounding him, his literal case of being forsaken attracting its influence. Elias knew enough of the dread powers after being tied with Jonah for so long, but everything was different now, wasn’t it? For all he knew, the terrors would shift across the globe like weather patterns, send people falling into a void one day, and then asphyxiate them under the crushing weight of dirt by the next.

He’d find out along the way, he supposed. He couldn’t stay here.

Initially, Elias had told himself he’d take it slow, and wait to calm down, but he had a feeling that wouldn’t happen in this reality now. Foolish to think of a possible moment of respite in a world made of fear.

Everything felt alien, from how his clothes were sitting on him, the splitting headache, the air in his lungs, the everything. He remembered being a young child, tumbling through playground fields and getting covered in bruises and scrapes without even thinking about it, now the thought of simply tripping and falling sounded torturous. Not to mention he was _much_ older now than the last time he was present, he wasn’t sure how much energy he was supposed to have, or how fragile he was supposed to be aside from his sudden tangibility.

Now, where was he? He was in London for sure, Jonah never strayed far from the institute, even if he was a fugitive. Most of that time was spent in the Panopticon, out of the reach of the police, and Basira and the monsters. He snuck out to a secluded park for the show, though. What was the point of setting off the apocalypse if you didn’t have a good viewing point?

Suddenly, the answer he needed seemed to fall into his brain. Walk twenty minutes south, take a right, then a left, and there was the Institute. Jonah’s omniscience must still be lingering over him, he supposed.

The Institute would be a good start. He needed something familiar to get his bearings better, even if it was that cursed place.

\--

…Perhaps the directions he was using were not so applicable now. After fourty minutes of walking straight, Elias realized he wasn’t going to find the street sign he was looking for. He looked around, suddenly seeing the distorted street lights, twisting impossibly, and how every window and piece of glass reflected a more wrong image of the world. He could hear screams, and what sounded like a car alarm going off, echoing in a way that made his head pound worse.

He took the next right turn that he saw. It was a small alleyway, lined with tiny shops that were dark now, or had the windows smashed in. This type of disaster wouldn’t be the type to attract looters, he didn’t want to know what broke into there, or if it was still nearby. He was panting with fatigue, but he kept up the pace, following the alleyway to the right. And to the right, and to the right, and to the…

Right, what should he expect? The Distortion likely didn’t need a Door anymore to start this nonsense. The whole city was its playground if it so wished.

As if on cue, a cackle chimed all around him, ending with a sigh just as a sharp, long hand fell across Elias’ shoulders.

“Jon’s really done it now, hasn’t he?” The voice of the former Helen Richardson, mused. “I was right that day, something terribly bad was amiss! What a delightful surprise indeed! I suppose I should thank you.”

Frozen in fear, Elias held his breath. Did she mean to spare him? From what he knew, the Spiral’s intentions could never be trusted, but it had been something of an ally for the Institute for some time. It also sounded like she was assuming that he was still Jonah, who orchestrated this.

He swallowed hard, keeping his gaze forward, and ushered a calm voice despite the terror in his gut. “You can thank me by sending me on my way to the Institute.”

Helen laughed again, right next to his ear, causing him to involuntarily wince. He felt dizzy, the ground felt unstable below him. Her hand squeezed his shoulder, the finger points digging in. “I suppose that would be fair, but that would be less fun, considering the old Helen has a bone to pick with you.” She said sweetly, as if she wasn’t threatening him currently. He took a sharp breath in, feeling her hand nearly break his skin with its hold. “Michael as well, considering you knew full well that Gertrude would likely sacrifice him. What’s wrong, Elias Bouchard, are you scared?” Helen sneered.

This was not a façade he could hold, not with the serious danger he was in. Even if he had some power left, The Beholding wasn’t going to help him defend himself. He did his best to drop down in an attempt to escape her grip, prying her fingers away with his hands as best he could. He loosened her hold, but she was still stronger, laughing with that migraine-inducing frequency as he tried.

“I see now! You’re not quite who I thought you were. Oh, well.” She squeezed harder now, fingertips piercing through flesh on his shoulder blade as he cried out, thrashing helplessly.

Two gunshots rang out, deafening Elias for a moment, then suddenly Helen let go. His vision flashed white with pain as her hand retreated, and he slumped against the alley wall. “Let them go, Helen.” A stern voice called out.

“…Oh, it’s you.” Helen said, turning behind her. If the bullets hit her, she seemed unfazed. Elias turned to follow where she was looking, but couldn’t see past her. “You’re a popular one. Maybe I’ll let her have you instead.”

Helen vanished, slipping into a door on the wall. Catching his breath, he turned to look at whoever saved him. Safety in numbers might be his best bet, now. One encounter with a creature and he was already nearly killed.

Elias found himself full of both shock and extreme relief to see Basira. She had the same expression of shock, before it turned into a deep scowl upon realizing who she just saved. _“You. What did you do?!”_ She growled.

Elias frantically stumbled back, but Basira was on him in an instant, grabbing him by the jacket and slamming him against the wall. The back of his head hit the bricks, leaving him dazed, unable to catch his breath. “Wait-waitwait, I—uurgh..!” Her hand put extra pressure into pushing at his wounded shoulder, she didn’t relent even as he ran out of air to cry out with, and could do nothing but hold his hands in front of him for mercy.

“This is all your fault, isn’t it?! Was this your plan? I’ll kill you for this, you slimy little…” She let one hand go of him, only to sock him in the left eye, leaving him seeing stars. “No hiding now, you’re gonna pay for this.”

“N-Not that Elias—” He choked out, and she hesitated, only for a moment. She looked ready to punch again and he waved his hands for her to wait, “Jonah—he’s gone. I’m not him.”

She let go very suddenly, letting him drop. He sagged over and coughed, trying to recover. His head was pounding, and his arms were shaking again with adrenaline. Basira’s expression was still furious, squinting her eyes at him to try and find the deception. She reached for her gun again. “Prove it.”

He watched her carefully, eyes trained on her hand near her gun. “I don’t know how, please—”

“You better think of something real quick before I decide not to take a chance.”

“Please, Basira! I want to help, I-I don’t want to die here!” He sputtered out desperately, gritting his teeth as he looked at her pleadingly.

The pause felt painfully long, before Basira seemed to attempt to relax, cautiously stepping back from him. He moved slowly, stiffly standing back up straight and taking a deep breath.

“Do you believe me?” He asked quietly.

She nodded, crossing her arms. “Eli—Jonah Magnus always calls me Detective, like it’s some kind of inside joke for him, the annoying prick.”

“He does that. Pretentious asshole loves his titles.” Elias muttered, rubbing his cheek. He could already tell that was going to swell.

“Weird to hear that come from your mouth, your mannerisms are definitely different from him.” Basira said. “You’re Elias Bouchard, then, the real one?”

“In the flesh. For the first time in a couple decades, anyway.” He shrugged, brushing off his trousers. “Can we talk about this at the Institute? I don’t think we’ll be safe much longer here. I’ll tell you whatever I can there.”

“…Fine. We should have an easier time, with Helen gone.” She replied, leaving the alleyway and glancing out on the street again. “…You walk in front. I don’t want you trying anything funny.”

Without the energy to argue that he meant no threat to her as a confused, chewed up, bleeding old man, he just nodded and took the lead.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Over two decades of silence makes conversations very difficult to maintain, but there's a few things Elias needs to explain.

It wasn’t much longer until they got to the front steps of the Institute. The building looked as menacing as ever, towering over them and seemingly sizing up Elias and Basira. It hummed with energy, as if its subtle power had been magnified a hundred times over. Maybe it was a trick in his vision, but every imperfection in the architecture, every crack and line in the brickwork seemed to trace itself into an eye, Elias could feel the prickling paranoia and awareness of something watching him from within the dark windows. The lookers up in the sky were especially concentrated here.

Nobody in their right mind would enter this place. It wasn’t safe for anyone who wasn’t a follower of The Eye. As two reluctant members of the place, it still didn’t _feel_ safe, but when had it ever? They had nowhere else to go.

“The place is probably empty. We’ve been shut down until further notice after the attacks, I have a feeling we won’t be up and running anytime soon though.” Basira said from behind him. She was standing vigilant, looking each way along the road for signs of danger, pistol in hand. Despite the fact that she was ready to—_understandably_–beat him to death back in the alley, he was beyond glad that she was the one who found him. The guilt would have been overwhelming if a regular survivor fell victim to the distortion while trying to save him.

He tried not to think too hard about whatever victims Helen still moved onto.

“Hey. Anybody in there? Let’s go. Door’s unlocked.” She said, prompting Elias out of his daydreaming. He was feeling weak already, after the shock of waking up, and being attacked. He was pretty sure his shoulder was bleeding from Helen’s sharp fingers, but he couldn’t tell over his black jacket. He moved forward up the steps and pulled the door open, holding it for Basira as she stepped inside, locking it behind her.

The front lobby was jarring to be standing in. After breaking out of jail, Jonah had entered through the tunnels to avoid being seen. It had been about a year since he’d seen the place from the entrance. 

(_’I prefer prison walls. He can do less harm there.’_).

It really hadn’t changed much, anyway. Some quick paintjobs after the messy Hopworth incident were clearly made, but really, this old decrepit place never changed much. Rosie wasn’t at the desk, he wondered if she’d come here for shelter, if she was alive. He was tempted to see if his Sight would let him find her, but he was scared of the answer he might find.

“…You used to work here, right? I mean, before… whatever happened. You remember the place?” Basira asked, breaking the silence.

Elias didn’t reply, just let his eyes wander the lobby, taking in each detail. Down that hall, leads to artifact storage. The stairs going down leads to the archives, upstairs was HR (a funny joke) and filing. The door straight down a narrow hall past reception was… his office. He was frozen in place, hearing the blood rushing in his ears as he fixated on that door. The lock was slightly askew where it was broken and never repaired, the nameplate with _his_ name was still visible, where Mr. Lukas obviously never bothered taking it down. He didn’t realize he was forgetting to blink until Basira stepped in front of him, snapping him out of it. He squeezed his eyes shut, feeling them sting with dryness.

Right, replying to questions was _his_ job now. “Sorry. Haven’t been able to hold a conversation for a long while.” Elias croaked, “I, yeah. I remember. I’ve been conscious of what’s happened, for the most part.”

“You mean you were in there _with_ Jonah?”

“Yeah. Just, waaay in the background. I could hear and see things, but that was it.” Elias said, rubbing his eyes and opening them again, blinking rapidly. “Forcing me to do nothing but watch is pretty thematic of the Eye, wouldn’t you say?”

“Sounds about right.” She mumbled, putting away her gun and walking down the hall. “There’s food in the canteen, and some more cots down in the archives you can rest in later. You should get cleaned up though, before touching anything. Meet me in the library in thirty minutes.”

Puzzled, he decided to head straight for the bathroom to see what she meant. Holy shit, she was right. He had already forgotten about the blood on his face, flaky and dried brown in streaks from his bloodshot eyes, reminding him of a ghost from some cheap horror film. One eye was on its way to being swollen half-shut, and his nose had bled at some point as well. He took off his jacket to inspect Helen’s mark on him, and she did draw blood from the back of his shoulder, thankfully not deep enough to be concerned about, from what he could tell. The bleeding had already stopped, too.

He spent most of the time washing away his sorry state over the sink, taking his time finding a water temperature that wasn’t overwhelming his senses immediately. He looked alive again by the time he was done, albeit pretty beat up and haggard. It would do for now.

He slipped out from the bathroom and peeked into the canteen. Frankly, eating sounded both terrifying and amazing currently. Whatever he attempted that labour with first, it was probably the best to try with something easy. He grabbed a bottle of water out of the fridge, and a granola bar from the shelf. If it wasn’t the apocalypse, he’d have been tempted to find his old favourite bakery.

He clutched both items and stepped out, glancing down the halls again. Basira said to meet back up with her, wherever she said she’d be—

_Library. Last table on the left past the computers._

Elias flinched back, headache spiking at the sudden Sight of where she was. That power was definitely haywire, probably due to multiple reasons. He didn’t want to think about that too hard, decidedly. He took steps down the hall towards the library, following straight to her location. He saw a flash of hostility in Basira’s stare as she noticed him, but she seemed to remember him again and relaxed, motioning for him to sit. He took a moment to respond, as usual, and he took a seat across from her, putting down his food and gripping the water bottle, feeling the satisfying coolness on his palm through the plastic.

“You should start explaining what’s happened with you. You’re the last thing I expected to find.” Basira said, adjusting her maroon hijab slightly before crossing her arms in front of her on the table.

Stunned for a moment, Elias laughed dryly before it turned into a short cough. “Are you, uh. Are you asking for a statement?”

Her expression remained neutral. “Not funny.”

“Sorry. Too soon.” He awkwardly cleared his throat, thinking of where the hell he was supposed to start. “Well, I was a filing clerk here. Screwed around on the daily once I realized it was hard to get fired from the place, got a bit too snoopy for Jonah’s liking. Or, I guess, that’s what brought his attention to me. He had no reason to be interested in me, otherwise. He then promoted and possessed me.”

Basira seemed to chew on that for a moment, figuring out what she wanted to ask. “You still have his eyes.”

Elias slumped his shoulders, remembering his ‘gift’ from the bastard, and sighed. “Apparently he doesn’t need them where he’s going. The Beholding is probably gifting him six hundred more, or something, for his loyalty. He didn’t want me to be free that easily.”

“Hm. That tracks,” She muttered, “Somebody must have caught on to you—him, when he took your body. Someone aside from Gertrude. You and him don’t exactly act the same, and filing clerks don’t just make it to Institute Head like that.”

He shrugged, “I was a single guy who didn’t socialize much outside of work. My family was a little estranged after I didn’t ‘Wow’ them with a good career after Uni, and working at Spooks McLibrary as a clerk wasn’t impressing them, either. If anyone noticed a difference, they either kept their head down, or they just saw it as an improvement. ‘Oh, look! Bouchard is finally smartening up, and being a professional. Never mind that his eye colour wasn’t always that deep a shade of blue, or that his mannerisms are totally different. Those are just normal parts of inheriting _responsibility. _’” Elias frowned, eyes downcast at the table. It was nobody’s fault, and there wasn’t anything that anyone could do aside from risk themselves by killing him, but he was still bitter. Watching his identity get lost while nobody helped was the harder part of what happened. “Next thing you know, twenty-three years pass, and Jonah wins.” He said quietly.

Silence filled the library again. That seemed to satisfy Basira’s questions for now, but he was sure she’d have more later. The grim reality of what was happening outside was hard to talk past. What was once a secret world of terrors was now out of hiding, the embodiments of fears wreaking havoc on their world.

Elias broke the silence this time. “I’m not exactly very useful or capable right now, but I do want to help.” He said, fiddling with the cap of his water.

Basira leaned her head in her hand, looking more tired than ever. “And do what? Where do we even start on saving the world?”

Elias shrugged again. “…well, we could try and find Jon Sims.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Help, I'm catching feelings from my own designed headcanon. God help me.
> 
> Also, feel free to follow me on tumblr at @mylemonginger. I post a lot of tma stuff and other stupid bullshit.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some preparation, and reminiscing.

"Really? You think Jon can stop this?" Basira asked, eyebrow raised in suspicion.

"Well, he was the key to Jonah's ritual, if there's any hope on reversing it, it's him"

"Hold it, wait. Jon, what?!" She stood up in surprise. "Sorry Elias, I've been a little out of the loop. What exactly did Jon do?"

Shit, she didn't know. Elias fumbled, thinking about how to phrase it. "Well, HE didn't..." He paused, sorting himself out. "Jonah's plan was to bring all the entities through. He needed Jon to be marked by all fears, and Forsaken was the final one on the list. Jonah compelled Jon to set off the ritual and... ta-da."

Basira looked dumbfounded, then decidedly angry. It was understandable, she'd been played for a fool a great number of times, more than once directly resulting in Jon being marked.

"Can only imagine how well Jon is dealing with that on his conscience." She said. "Or Martin, for that matter."

Elias nodded, feeling his guts twist. Despite his situation, being witness to how they were all manipulated and trapped struck him with a hard guilt.

"At least they have each other. Neither would handle it well on their own." He said.

"That's true." Basira said quietly, arms crossed. She looked sad for a moment, until it looked like she packed that emotion back away to put on a tough face.

"I'm, uh. Sorry. About Daisy." Elias muttered. His attempt to be soft and sympathetic ended up coming out as more awkward than he hoped.

She sighed, crossing her arms and turning away. "Thanks, but no offense, you're not exactly the person I want to talk to about that." She said.

Elias looked down at the table, letting the silence drag on. He didn't blame her, she barely knew him aside from how he shared the same face as her worst enemy. A topic as sensitive as losing Daisy a second time wasn't a comfortable one to approach.

Elias twisted the cap off his water bottle, wincing slightly at the effort. He took an experimental tiny sip, which turned quickly into gulping down half of it.

Holy shit, if water tasted this good, how great was food going to be? How was _weed_ going to be? Not like he'd be able to get his hands on any without being extremely lucky.

"So... you suggest we get Jon and Martin?"

Elias tore open the granola bar packaging, breaking off a piece and holding it before turning his focus back to Basira. "I don't know what else we could do." He said, "Even if Jon can't help, it might still be smart to regroup since plans have, uh... changed."

He took a bite, and his face twisted up, the sweetness overwhelming. He choked it down and coughed, drinking more water to work past it. "And as you can see, I'm not a very useful survival partner." He gestured to himself, "I'm about as capable as Jurgen Leitner-- after the head bashing."

Basira looked to be considering this. She wasn't one for waiting around to see what would happen.

"Going all the way to Scotland won't be easy, not with the world like this." She said.

"It won't, no." He agreed. 

After a moment of thought, Basira took a slow breath in and then exhaled, as if set on their plan. "I'll pack some supplies for the drive. Take whatever you want for food and then take the bed down in the archives. Once we're both rested we can leave."

As soon as Elias nodded in understanding, she was gone again. He finished off the bar that he had started eating, not reacting as harshly to the sweetness this time. After that, he set off to to canteen again to gather things. 

He went behind the counter and found a full case of bottled water, which he hauled out to a table by the entrance, not enjoying how winded he felt by doing so. _'How old am I now, mid-sixties?'_ Since it had been a couple weeks since the Institute was last open, there was no fresh food about. He grabbed all the easy snack food he could find; more granola bars, crisps, peanuts. He piled them all into a shopping bag he found behind the counter and took everything to the front.

On his way out of the canteen, the Head Office caught his eye again. As much as he wanted to fight it and ignore that room, he knew there could be useful things in there.

_Change of clothes in the closet, and a warmer jacket.___

_ _He closed his eyes, waiting for the pain behind his eyes to fade. Wasn't sure how that Sight was any more useful than just walking into the damn office to see for himself. He walked over, turning the handle above the busted lock and stepped in, making a beeline for the closet with the change of clothes that he so usefully 'beheld' a second ago. As expected, it was all there. He gathered it all in his arms as well as the heavier jacket._ _

_ _Turning around had him making eye contact with the portrait on the wall. Jonah Fucking Magnus. The guy really got off to looking at his own original glory every day in his office. In the professional manner of his pose and expression, he still had a hint of smugness that came through in the picture._ _

_ _Even with Jonah gone, knowing he still had those eyes in that picture looking back at him was too much._ _

_ _His eyes wandered to the big ornate desk. It was normally more tidy, but during his absence the others had rifled through the drawers whenever they were looking for things to solve their mystery of the week._ _

_ _He remembered it meticulously neat when he walked in there. He had sat down across from James Wright, who had pushed a fancy pen and a stack of freshly printed papers over to him._ _

_ _"Listen," Elias had said, "If this is about last week, I know it looked bad, I didn't mean to eavesdrop. I was waiting for your meeting to finish to ask about changing my vaction schedule. Cross my heart."_ _

_ _Wright squinted at him, grinning slyly. "You and I both know that you have a department manager who is fully capable of helping you with those requests." He had said. "No, that is quite fine. Who am I to reprimand someone seeking out hidden knowledge?"_ _

_ _Between being totally called out on his bluff, and yet also praised(?) for his misconduct, Wright had made him uneasy._ _

_ _"You've been a dedicated employee for a long time now. That calls for a well-deserved reward." Wright said._ _

_ _Elias had glanced at the forms. What he thought was paperwork for some sort of written warning was something much more left-field._ _

_ _A promotion to Head of the Magnus Institute._ _

_ __Him,_ a filing clerk known for a work ethic that was mediocre at best, a prospect for future successor? No way. The only reason he had eyes on him recently was his habit of reading the paperwork that was passing through his hands when he found a reason to be interested. He hung around the archival staff and asked too many questions, usually about the assistants that had quit but never come back to empty their desks. When he asked that woman, Gertrude, if they had actually been fired in a messy incident, she just laughed and then shooed him out of her office._ _

_ _Point was, he was a slacker, and not very subtle about his nosy tendencies._ _

_ _"This must be a joke." He had chuckled nervously, leaning back in his seat after scanning the first page of the documents in front of him._ _

_ _"On the contrary. This body of mine isn't getting any younger." Wright explained. Elias had squinted suspiciously at that choice of phrasing. "It's important to have a successor lined up, and with a little push, I think you'd be perfect for the job. Your potential is wasted doing the same mindless, boring tasks everyday."_ _

_ _That wording was exactly how he'd described his job when complaining to his coworker. Had Wright overheard that?_ _

_ _He kept speaking, not giving Elias time to get too concerned about that. "You'll be trained under me, of course, to prepare for inheriting the position. I'll be with you every step of the way, everything will be lined up nicely as I pass you the torch."_ _

_ _Elias didn't know what to say, he had been stunned by this whole opportunity getting shoved at him out of nowhere. The shock was enough to hide the red flags in the situation as Wright pushed the papers to him again._ _

_ _"I assure you, your job will be much easier than it seems. Most of this is just formality. I wouldn't offer it to you if I didn't think you could handle it."_ _

_ _Who would throw this chance away? He'd be stupid not to take it, and if he had doubts, he could rescind the offer. It wasn't like Wright was going to keel over and die tomorrow, this inheritance was likely for years down the road._ _

_ _"I.... thank- uh, thank you sir, for this opportunity." Elias stammered out. He skimmed it all and signed._ _

_ _"Perfect." Wright had said, smiling brightly. "You'll do marvelous, Mr. Bouchard."_ _

_ _Wright put the papers in his drawer and stood up, stepping around the desk to shake his hand. Elias did so, and took that as his cue to leave, head still in a daze trying to process what just happened. He made it two steps to the door before Wright stuck a needle into his neck._ _

_ _The chair that Elias sat in that day was still there. Truly, the room hadn't changed much aside from the new nameplate and a more modern computer and printer._ _

_ _He had sworn at one point that if he ever became free, this office would be the first room he'd torch._ _

_ _"Hey." Basira said from the doorway, making him jump. He turned to face her. "You've been standing in here awhile. You look like you're going to be sick."_ _

_ _Elias' gaze flickered to the portrait to his right, then back to her. "I.... yeah. I'm fine. I found some extra clothes here in my size." He said, gesturing to his arm that felt a little light. He looked to see they were gone, and he turned his gaze downward. At some point he must have dropped it at his feet._ _

_ _"...Right. I found the supplies you left, and it's packed. You should go rest, go and take Jon's bed. We leave in the morning." She said, leaving again. Elias hastily picked up his dropped things and exited as well, heading down to the archives._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this whole dang chapter on my phone during a 14 hour roadtrip, and while that made the trip fly by, I also now want to break my phone and eat it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flashbacks to the last moments of autonomy, and an incentive to get moving.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So uhhhhhhh huge surgery content warning for this whole chapter. My google search history got weird there for a bit.

Sleeping came easy, surprisingly. Elias expected to be too buzzed after the events of today to be able to give up consciousness again so easily, but he was exhausted, scratched up, and aching. While freedom was something he wanted, he had become resigned to his fate that Jonah gave him a long time ago. Staying in the present now took much more energy out of Elias than it should have just to be alert.

Sleeping was the simple part, but the dreaming was another.

His brain reconstructed the memory in vivid detail, how he had woken in that groggy state from whatever tranquilizer was used on him. He was immobilized on a stretcher, tight belts keeping his arms and legs bound to him, as well as one holding his forehead down painfully. He was still never sure where exactly he was taken for this; the lamp overhead blocked out the scenery.

“Ah, there you are. Welcome back.” A disembodied voice had said beyond the lights. Elias’ brain felt like it was stuffed with cotton, he was still trying to connect the dots of what was happening. Things started to click when he saw James Wright’s face leaning over him.

He started to struggle, turning and twisting in what few ways he could under the restraints to no avail. “What’s—what’s happening, what are you doing?” He demanded; eyes wide in his rising panic.

“Forgive me, I can only imagine how uncomfortable it is to wake up like this.” Wright said insincerely, leaning away to do something. Elias heard the clatter of something being placed on a tray, tools or something. Then, the stretch and snap of latex gloves. “Lucky for you, I’m well practiced now, and medicine has advanced spectacularly through this century. Keep still, and this procedure should be quite painless.”

Wright’s words didn’t do anything to ease his fear—then again, they probably weren’t meant to. “I don’t understand, what the hell are you doing to me?” Elias asked, eyes straining to catch him in the corner of his vision. Wright moved back in sight, his blue eyes peering at him with a cold intensity.

“This is formality, as I said before. It’s the only difficult thing you’ll ever have to do in this position, I assure you.” He said, standing at the head of the stretcher, appearing upside-down to Elias. “If you’re to become Head of my Institute, you’ll need my eyes.”

It took a moment to realize that he meant that literally. He started to writhe again with the room he had to do so. He began to sweat, and his breathing drew quicker and shorter. Wright only watched him intently. “I-I don’t want any part in this—please, just let me go. _Please—_” Elias whimpered.

“Oh Elias Bouchard, the family disappointment—" He said, his tone condescending, "--they had such high hopes for you when you left for University. Their expectations were high and you almost met them, only to work as a filing clerk when the pressure became too much after graduating. You deflected their comments with sarcasm, but you know that pain of disappointment burns in you no matter how you hide it. Your friends left you too when you showed no promise of prestige. All you have now is your job where you’re known as a burnout.” Wright mused. As he spoke, Elias could almost feel the memories welling up to the front of his mind. All the pressure and expectations and failure. “Hurts, doesn’t it? When your worth is measured on your success. Maybe they’ll finally tell you that they’re proud when they find out you run the Magnus Institute, when they move past the distaste of the field. It won’t _exactly_ be you, but maybe it’ll be the Elias that they prefer over the real one.”

Tears welled up in his eyes. “Why are you doing this?” He asked through clenched teeth.

“Because you have a penchant for digging up secrets and listening through doors, just to know what’s happening around you. It caught my interest. Your curiosity will be sated, once we’re done here, I can guarantee that. You’ll understand the true goal of this place.” He said, expression still neutral aside from his focus that seemed to map every detail of Elias’ anguish. “My true name is Jonah Magnus, and my work is far from over. James Wright’s heart has been developing some concerning arrhythmia that is unlikely to get better with time. You presented yourself as a potential candidate not long after.”

James—no, Jonah— brought his hand to Elias’ face, holding his right eye open. He choked back a cry and struggled again; Jonah seemed only mildly irritated but held him still enough to work. A few drops of fluid went into his eye, then he moved to the left and did the same. The numbing effect became apparent after a few seconds. Jonah released him and turned away, only to return with a needle in sight. “I will have to ask that you stop moving. These next parts require some dexterity, and will only be painful if you decide to be difficult about it.”

Elias slowed his movements, but was still breathing hard. “I’m scared.” He whispered, barely audible. Tears finally spilled over and rolled down the sides of his head, the sensation odd with the lack of feeling in his eye.

Jonah just leaned in close to him. “Good.” He said slowly. “I’ll be with you every step of the way. Just do what you’re good at: absolutely nothing. You’ll be just fine.”

Elias fell very still, terrified into obedience. The back of his mind wondered why he wasn’t simply put unconscious if he was so concerned about noncompliance, but of course this wasn’t just surgery. This was something much more sinister. The word _ritual_ popped at the front of his mind. Jonah injected anaesthetic into both eyes, and continued to place a speculum on the right eye to hold it open. Aside from the jab of the needle, he felt nothing but a cold numbness in the front of his face. Elias was scared, he was petrified, and even though his vision was heavily blurred, the eyes of Jonah Magnus were clear above him. They did not blink through the entire procedure.

At least, they didn’t for as long as Elias could see. It was almost something of a relief when the second eye was removed from its socket, optic nerve cut free and leaving him with void. Some part of that fear of helplessly watching and being destroyed in the process seemed to go away briefly, like an oppressive weight lifted off his back. The straps holding him in place loosened one by one, and in the euphoria of being free he forgot the need to move or fight. A noise that could only be described as a fleshy pop sounded out, and with hand movements much less coordinated than a moment ago, something else was being shoved into his now-vacant eye sockets.

It was like he could _feel_ the tendril-like nerves of these new eyes twisting to connect to new cords. When they did connect, it was more than just sight that came to him. It was like everything Jonah knew was instantaneously shoved into his brain in an overwhelming rush of information. He only saw the present in flashes as he stood up from the table, swinging his legs over to stand shakily, then stare down the blinded James Wright on the ground and gently, easily, suffocate him to death.

He didn’t realize until after that it wasn’t him doing those actions at all. He still couldn’t feel what was happening.

“I’ll take care of the rest, Mr. Bouchard.” Jonah said in Elias’ voice. “You just sit back and watch. That’s all you ever have to do from now on.”

\--

Elias woke with a jolt that would have been less severe if someone had poured cold water on him. He was shaking uncontrollably, trying to get his breathing under control. He noted where he was and how he could feel everything again, trying to remind himself that it was just a dream, just a memory.

That wasn’t all, though. Something else was happening. He looked at the walls in the dim room around him, it was almost as if they were breathing. In the corner of his vision, he could tell that every surface was looking back at him.

_He’s here. He’s here he’s herehe’sherehe’shere HE’S HERE._

In a flash of Sight, he could see Jonah approaching the front doors. He was aware of his presence there as much as Elias was aware of him. There was no maliciousness to Jonah Magnus aside from a motivation to ‘chase out the rats’, so to speak.

He was only relieved that he and Basira had prepared their getaway last night. He threw his jacket on—he had worn his clothes to bed, in case of a situation just like this – and grabbed the rucksack on the floor with his spare clothes, and ran to Basira’s room, banging on the door.

She must have woken up when he did, as she answered immediately, looking like she’d already prepared to investigate. “What’s happening?”

“He’s here, he’s coming back here. Jonah Magnus. We need to go. Now.” He said, so fast that he nearly ran over his own words. _’I’m an idiot. Of course he would come back here. This is HIS INSTITUTE, it was never safe here.’_ He thought, mind racing.

Basira frowned, grabbing the bag she left next to the door and a pair of car keys. “How much time do we have?” She demanded, stepping out of her room next to him.

“Minutes—seconds, more like. At- at the front entrance, that’s where he’s coming.” Elias stammered; eyes downcast to focus on giving her the answer.

“The car is at the back entrance. Everything’s ready.” She started to run down the hall and up the stairs, and Elias followed behind. The building was alive with energy, the eyes in the pictures on the wall starting to blink at them and follow them as they frantically moved to escape the building. They both sprinted through the lobby to the back doors just as they heard the main entrance doors open. The two of them only caught a glimpse of the horror walking into his Institute, and that was all they needed to see. He was all eyes.

Shaken, but not enough to pause or hesitate, they both exited the building and ran to a car parked right outside the doors—no need for proper parking at the end of times. They threw their bags into the backseat, Basira turned the keys in the ignition, and they sped off, not daring to look behind them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After rereading this a few weeks later, I can't help but think of John Mulaney when I read the line "Why are you doing this?"
> 
> Jonah, singing: _~~Because we're The Magnus Institute, and life is a fucking nightmare!~~_


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mad Max: Fury Road except less explosions more spooky? Road trip jokes. You know.

The Institute vanished as Basira took a sharp corner and sped off. Elias was hunched over in the passenger seat with his bag at his feet and his head in his hands. Like flashes of lighting, his Sight kept painfully hitting him with snapshots of the Institute and the creature that had now reclaimed it.

Had his original body reanimated? Was he just a mass of twitching, watching things as he appeared? Was there any meat or bones or brains behind all the eyes? He didn't want to know. He knew that they needed to get far away. Even if Jonah would still See them, at least he couldn't hurt them at a distance.

"What the hell was that?! That was him?" Basira exclaimed once the road was clearer and required less focus. They were just about to the highway, hopefully where there would be less smashed or abandoned cars to swerve around. "Did you know he was coming back?"

"No," Elias gasped, realizing he'd been holding his breath. He sat up straight and glanced outside the car to see what they would be dealing with. "I- I should have, though. I'm sorry."

"Well, we still made it. Lucky that we were ready." She said, accelerating as the road cleared out. They passed a body on the side of the road, being devoured by three grotesque looking beasts that were pink and scarred and all elbows. Whether it was Hunt or Flesh or both, the two didn't want to stick around to find out.

"Hard to say what our delays might be, but if we drive the whole way to Scotland, should be about 8 hours." Basira said.

"Less than that, likely. Jon and Martin are getting ready to travel south." Elias piped up reflexively.

Basira turned her head to him, eyeing him with slight alarm. She stepped on the brakes too, bringing the car to a rolling stop. Elias watched her carefully, recognizing her suspicion immediately.

"You know things. Like-- you're Knowing things, aren't you?"

Elias nodded slowly.

She gripped the steering wheel with one hand, knuckles white with tension. "You don't think that's a _little_ important for me to have known?" She growled, looking frustrated.

He looked down, bringing a hand up to rub his temple. "I'm sorry-- I know I should have. It's his eyes, I think." He explained, frowning.

"How much can you see?"

"I can't control it-- well, I haven't tried to, anyway. It's just been randomly happening. Without prompting." He said. "It's been pretty useless things most the time, aside from the ones today."

"Well, tell me when a useful thing happens." She said, turning back forward. "It's already hard for me to trust you. Don't keep secrets like that."

"I understand. Sorry." Elias said, relaxing as Basira stepped on the gas again. The silence dragged as they picked up speed again. He shifted in his seat before speaking up again. "Thank you, for trusting me. I know it wasn't easy. Jonah did awful things to all of you."

She sighed. "I'm just sick of being a part of everyone's-- _his_ \--schemes. He probably took me for an idiot, how I fell for everything he said as he sent me on goose chases around the world. After surviving The Unknowing, I shouldn't be falling for bullshit lies by old men. I'm supposed to be the one who figures things out."

"You didn't know his endgame. Nobody did, really. You shouldn't blame yourself for that." He said.

"I just hope we can reverse this. I know he's definitely being smug about his big master plan that nobody saw coming. He deserves to have it blow up in his face."

"I'd love to see that too." Elias agreed. "I wasn't quite uh-- present, most the time before, but I definitely was when you attacked him in his cell. Best thing I'd seen in a while."

Basira snorted quietly at that, a hint of a smirk on her face. "It didn't help anything in the situation, but I don't regret it. If I'm lucky I'll get to do it again."

"Yeah. I'd like a turn as well." He agreed, rubbing his right eye. His hand came back with a tinge of red, and he made a noise of disgust. "If these eyeballs don't start being actively useful, I might just scoop them out myself."

He flipped down the visor and checked the mirror to help in wiping away the smatter of blood on his cheek. Basira made a short glance over at him before looking back at the road. "So you saw Martin and Jon coming our way?"

He nodded, "I'm thinking they have the same idea, to regroup. Could be handy, anyway. Jon might find us quicker than we find them, and the trip will be shorter."

"That's if they don't die on the way. We're also going to need a new safehouse since we got chased out of the Institute, so that will take more time to sort out."

Could Jon still die at this point? Debatable. Martin might, but the two together were hopefully capable enough that it wouldn't come to that. The issue of a place to stay was definitely a real problem, but it was likely going to be an issue no matter what. Hell, even if Jonah didn't show up, the Institute wouldn't have stayed safe for them forever.

Elias closed his eyes, taking a breath. When he opened them, everything remained dark. He blinked a few times to try and fix it, to no avail. Panic gripped his chest. "Basira?" He called out, waving his hand in his face. He couldn't see it.

"...I'm here." She said after some hesitation. He felt a slight rock as she slowed the car down slightly. Clicks sounded near where the steering wheel was, as well as the ceiling of the car. A faint light appeared outside where the highbeams were, but they seemed ready to fizzle out any minute. "I won't stop the car, we'll just have to ride this out. Reach for my bag in the backseat; there should be a flashlight."

He took a shuddering breath, then turned backward to grope around for her rucksack. With some luck, he found it right away, pulling it into his lap to blindly search inside. He removed the big thing, flipping the switch which brought a moderate amount of light to the car interior, to his relief.

He pointed it first at Basira, to confirm she was still really here, before pointing it through the windshield. The world sort of seemed like it was gone now, the darkness swallowing everything that wasn't their tiny oasis of light. If there was something in that darkness to be afraid of, they didn't know. "There's two more sets of batteries in the small pocket of my bag, if that runs out too fast. If this is anything like dealing with Raynor, we'll need them." Basira explained.

The drive continued in silence, both of them leaning close to the windshield to try and see anything they could. They were on a rather straight stretch of highway which was a relief, but they were bound to hit a turn soon that would slow them down even more. The dread and anticipation of running into something tangible was building steadily as the minutes passed.

It was hard to tell the passing of time, but it seemed to be about half an hour before proper light filtered back into the world. Basira had to stop when it did so, letting her eyes adjust again. Seeing the sky would have been more of a relief if it didn't immediately cause a headache.

The fact that the sky was looking back at them wasn't a pleasant sight, either.

The two stayed quiet, letting their heart rates slow somewhat before Elias put away the flashlight, and Basira got the car moving forward again. They had ended up in the center of the road, which was arguably better than driving off of it, but they were quite lucky that they seemed to be the only ones driving out here.

At some point Basira had looked over to him to break the silence. "So, which one do you think we'll run into next?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for stickin' around and reading this far! 💙


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hindsight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: You know what I have a hard time writing? Dialogue.
> 
> Also me: This chapter will be nothing but dialogue because I love to suffer in order to make a richer story experience.

The driving was quiet for a time after they had escaped from the dark void. The two were quite vigilant and keeping an eye out for whatever else would be thrown their way, which took focus away from conversation. It took a good hour before watching for any possible horrors to emerge from the distance got boring. Basira didn’t mind the quiet, but even she was becoming antsy, occasionally looking over to Elias who was staring through the windshield, eyes wide like a deer caught in the headlights.

“So, who exactly were you before all of this?” She asked. After an appropriate time of pause, she saw that Elias hadn’t seemed to move or react. She glanced over to him. “…Elias.”

He blinked, hands twitching as he remembered to be present again. He curled his hands into fists to feel the sensation, hopefully grounding him well enough. “That’s uh, that’s a loaded question, don’t you think?” He asked.

“Considering who you are, I think every question is going to be.”

He gave a quiet laugh. He couldn’t argue with that, it was definitely true. “To sum it up? I was an underachiever with a silver spoon in my mouth.” He said after a moment of thought. There was something of a comical self-deprecation to his tone. He had a lot of time to think about what his original life was like. “In terms of my education, I did what everyone expected of me. I didn’t give a shit about politics or philosophy, but they laid the pressure on me to get it done. I was mediocre enough to coast through it well enough.”

“So, what brought you to the Magnus Institute, then?” Basira asked.

“Newspaper ad.” He said flatly. He could see Basira’s shoulders fall, as if disappointed by the unremarkable answer. “Qualifications weren’t asking for much, and job duties pretty free of heavy responsibility, which I loved. The concept was interesting but ultimately kind of boring when you weren’t actively aware of or fighting the forces of the supernatural. Artifact storage was an adventure to explore, though.”

The highway took a slight turn, the inertia making him sway slightly in the sensation. Elias watched Basira as she seemed to ponder his answer. As she glanced back to him, she just shrugged with a smile. “Just sounds so normal. I assume everyone who joins does so because of something scary that happened to them.”

“All those people have a spot saved for them in the Archives, I think. There’s a fair amount of boring people in the other departments.” Elias said, “I was just, uh, a really bad case of ‘wrong place at the wrong time.’ I was an unremarkable and useless pencil pusher who wouldn’t be missed if he suddenly, uh, _disappeared_, for the lack of a better word.”

He turned to look in the backseat again, reaching for a bottle of water from the pack they had brought, then grabbing a second when Basira asked for one, as well. It felt tense in the car, now, leaving Elias unsure of what to say. He gave a nervous, airy laugh to try and change whatever had fallen into the space. “Well, Jonah got some use out of me, as a literal figurehead. I guess I wasn’t entirely useless, after all.”

“Your parents _really_ never noticed the change?” Basira asked, a hint of sadness in her tone.

Elias’ insides felt like they were twisting. He took a drink of water in a failed attempt to make it stop. Apparently, two decades with nothing to do but think wasn’t enough to escape some emotions. He weakly feigned indifference. “I’m sure they did. They were very proud of me for turning my act around and making an impressive salary.” He explained, voice gone somewhat shaky without him realizing. 

Jonah didn’t often speak directly to Elias. But he was quite smug to him after that dinner, about how he did a better job of being Elias than the original. Thankfully, Jonah had his own sinister plans keeping him occupied, so gloating after family gatherings wasn’t a common event. Both of his parents passed away about five years after, and Jonah inherited everything from them in the Will.

“I’m sorry. That’s awful.” Basira said softly.

He sighed. “It’s fine. It wasn’t like my life was going to go anywhere anyway, especially with the whole ‘can’t quit the Institute’ thing. Eye transplant aside, I think I still got off luckier than most.” He replied, shrugging. He thought back to everyone who met their grisly end. Eric, who almost made it if not for Mary, Gertrude by his own hands, Sasha, Tim…

And if they weren’t killed, they were changed into something beyond their understanding, like Michael or Jon, or Daisy.

“Nothing of what you said sounds like a lucky turnout.” Basira said with a dry laugh.

“I mean, I didn’t die horribly, or have to fight monsters! Jonah Magnus protected himself well, and by association, me.” He reasoned, shrugging. Basira just gave him a _look_. Still, he argued his point. “I was basically a ghost. It made it… safer, I guess. It was easy. I didn’t need to do anything, or be forced to make any hard choices like your lot had to. I just had to watch, and over time, I got pretty good at not even doing that.”

“And you think that’s better.” She stated after a pause. She was squinting as she watched the road, looking like she was trying to figure out what the good was in Elias’ situation, and failing to find it.

Elias was sweating by this point. Rationalizing it all out loud did sound more absurd. He started wringing his hands in his lap. “If I stayed myself through all that lost time, I doubt anything I did would have been of any help to anyone. If I transferred out of filing and got more involved with the inner workings of the Institute, I would have been dead weight that would get myself or someone else senselessly killed.” He muttered, “Nothing would have been different.”

_’Just do what you’re good at: absolutely nothing.’_ The voice of James Wright echoed in his head. He shivered, squeezing his hands together in attempt to suppress it.

“You’re missing the point, here.” Basira said, scoffing. “You’re treating this all like some Pain Olympics. Yeah, you weren’t on the front lines, but you still got dragged into some shit you never asked for. It doesn’t matter if nothing would change if things happened differently. You don’t have to consider yourself lucky for how things played out.”

Elias blinked at her, quietly thinking about what she was saying. She glanced over to him again and sighed, gesturing vaguely. “What happened to you was bad. You’re allowed to admit that and be upset about it. Whether or not you would have been useful doesn’t make Jonah possessing you any less horrible. He did an awful thing to you, and kept doing more awful things instead of dropping dead with some decency. He messed up everyone’s lives, including yours. You don’t have to downplay it.”

He didn’t say anything aside from a contemplative ‘hm.’ He slowly started wringing his hands again, hoping the motion would help him chew on Basira’s words with more consideration. She wasn’t wrong; he had been comparing their struggles quite differently. Perhaps Jonah left behind more than just his eyes. He liked to insist to Elias that he was relieving him of burdens, that possession meant he didn’t have to worry about his choices or how he was judged for them. Elias would have made the wrong ones anyway, that's what he did for most of his life, right? Jonah knew and saw everything, of course he was right about that. It was better to not have to be a person anymore.

Thinking about it in this light made the nightmare more of a reality. His shuddering returned with a vengeance, and his throat tightened up.

He opened his mouth to speak up, but Basira beat him to it. “Something’s up ahead.” She said, leaning forward to see what was coming up on the road in the distance.

The straight stretch ahead showed a handful of dots, growing bigger to reveal about a dozen different people standing in the road. The vehicle slowed down, but she seemed hesitant to stop driving. As important as helping survivors was, this car could only hold a few people, and their goal wasn’t exactly survival as much as it was finding the source of the chaos. It was becoming an issue that this group was spread out and blocking the road. What was peculiar was that they were just standing, not waving their arms or moving much at all. It was like they were waiting. As they got closer, Elias saw that many of them were holding something. Hammers, pitchforks, bats, knives…

Before either of them could say another word to each other, drumming seemed to play from a distance. Then, the sound of a gun firing as something shot out one of their tires.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Founding of the organization, IWAP (Institute Workers Against Percussion)

The car took a sharp quarter-spin before coming to a halt, leaving the two shaken up. Basira groaned in irritation, while Elias tried to remember how to breathe. The vehicle was put into park, but Basira kept the key in the ignition. It sat at an uneven angle, the rear passenger side sagging lower where the blown tire must have been. They were in luck that Basira had slowed down; Elias didn’t want to imagine what would happen if they were shot at a high speed. That drumroll was still going, making their heads swim more than any instrument should. The dire reality of the situation set in when the two watched the crowd begin to approach.

In the corner of his eye, he could see Basira reaching to undo her seatbelt and grabbing something else. She was frantically speaking, but aside from a few swears it just came out as garbled words to Elias. He sat perfectly still, frozen in place with the world around him muted aside from that drumming, he watched the group approach slowly with weapons in hand. His passenger window faced the whole crowd. Basira was still trying to talk to him, even grabbing his arm to shake him, but she seemed to give up as she exited the vehicle, backing up swiftly to put the car between them and her. The people were a few feet from Elias’s door, some swiveled their heads as they seemed keen to follow Basira. Their movements and their strides seemed synchronized. The drumming intensified as they came into arms reach of the car.

Two gunshots rang out, and Elias jumped forward until his seatbelt caught, as if a spell had broken. He whipped his head back to see Basira holding her gun out, and one man on the ground. This seemed to set off the crowd, who broke into a run. A little over half started to pursue her with vigor, weapons in hand.

She backed up further, and then the crowd around her obscured Elias’ view. She probably wouldn’t be able to defend from all of them, not on her own. This was bad.

The drumming was incessant, even more intensely ringing through his head as he watched the scene unfold. He unbuckled his seatbelt, not to leave but rather to crawl into the driver’s seat in case the person outside his door planned to smash his window. He grabbed fistfuls of his own hair, shaking in frustration and panic. _’She can't take them all. She needs help, but I have nothing I can do but I have to do something. I'm hardly worth sacrificing, killing me won't distract them for long. I can't do anything. I can't do anything. We’re going to die here. Somebody please stop that fucking DRUM. Where is it coming from?’_

Like a camera flash going off in his face, Sight came to him. _Something in the trees. Something monstrous. Marching forward._ He gasped for air as he swiveled his head around to find the corresponding woods in his vision.

It was a terrible sight to behold.

The creature towered high, bathed in the dim light of the hellish sky above. It walked slow but steady on knobbly hoofed feet, its vaguely equine body dressed up and fit to carry a general across a battlefield. Where an animal’s head and neck were lacking, the human torso jutted out, its scorched and tattered uniform gaped with holes that exposed the skeleton underneath. A kettledrum was fixed to its front, bony hands playing with a smooth efficiency. The empty skull stared forward, expressionless, regarding the mayhem before it. It was hard to tell from the angle if the torn and dirty flag flying above it was strapped to its back or if the pole had been impaled into the flesh of the horse’s body.

Creatures of War were hard to find when away from an active battlefield, but that probably wasn’t the case anymore. Slaughter could make its own army wherever it liked, now. It approached slowly, seemingly just content to observe. As it got closer, he could see no weapons strapped to it.

Perhaps its only job was to command.

Elias practically tumbled out of the car with newfound motivation in his terror. He heard another shot fire—he hoped it was Basira who pulled the trigger. Glancing about, he spotted the body of the person she had felled earlier. The man held a shotgun, still tight in his grip. He must have been the one to shoot out the tire. Bingo.

As he took a step toward it, he ducked his head as a crowbar came crashing down where his was a moment ago, clanging against the top of the car. There were three that hadn’t forgotten about him. Clumsily dodging them, he dove for the gun, wrenching it out of the dead man’s hands before running to the side of the road, towards the horror. He could only hope for Basira to hold out for now. He could only hope that his suspicion was correct.

His ears were splitting as he approached it, feeling the beat ripple through every cell in his body. It made it hard to do much of anything once he stood in front, it was much more colossal up close, the skull must have been sitting ten feet up. It didn’t seem to notice him. It took everything in him to cock the gun and fire.

The recoil pushed back on Elias’ shoulder with bruising force. He stumbled backward, looking back up when he gained his footing. The beat paused for a brief moment as the drummer swayed violently. Elias had missed the drum with his unsteady aim, but its right arm hung loosely, shards of bone falling from its body and onto the grass at its feet. Clutching the firearm, Elias turned to look to the road. The crowd around Basira seemed scattered, some clutching their heads and doubled over. Most had dropped their weapons. She was watching in confusion until she spotted Elias, then immediately started in his direction, gaping at the monster.

The drumroll resumed, albeit not as smoothly as before. Elias looked back up to the creature to see its felled arm recovering enough to begin playing again. That was all the time it needed to bring the crowd under its thrall again. The man closest to Elias had gained ground and tackled him over. Dazed at the impact, he tried to throw the frenzied and furious man off of him, while avoiding the pocket knife he wielded. 

Quickly overwhelmed, Elias just focused on keeping that knife from stabbing him, gripping the man’s forearm to try and keep him from excitedly plunging it into his chest. He frantically looked over to Basira who had come into sight. His muscles screamed with the effort against fighting the man, but he spared a moment to call out to her. “THE DRUM!” He shouted, and she nodded, already aiming her pistol upward.

The explosion of copper was deafening as Basira shot the drum, destroying the membrane where the rhythm was being played. The man on top of Elias reared back, screaming in agony and rolling off of him. Basira aimed again, higher this time, and the skull of the drummer shattered. The monster toppled unceremoniously to the ground with a loud _thump_, and the empty stretch of land was silent again.

The man next to Elias lay still. Hesitantly, he sat up and reached out to feel his neck for a pulse. He was unconscious, apparently. The shock of the creature dying was enough to knock them out. Basira was panting, looking worn out as she extended a hand to Elias to help him up. He took it, shakily standing up next to her. She looked somewhat roughed up, but nothing serious. Her nose was bleeding, and there was a gaping tear in the arm of her jacket, a small red stain coming through. She adjusted her scarf under her chin before looking back to him.

“You good?” She asked, sounding out of breath.

Elias ran a hand through his hair. “I’d be better if I had a joint right now.” He answered. He could see her nod slightly, then give a short, tired laugh. “You?”

“Good. We need to check the car, though.”

\--

With a stroke of luck, only the tire was damaged when it was shot, and all it took was replacing it with the spare. Elias kept an eye out while Basira worked, watching the area for whatever horror they had coming next to meet them. He helped lift the spare onto the wheel stud, then made quick work of dragging the other people to the side of the road. They were still unconscious, he wasn’t sure how much he liked leaving them like this, but they couldn’t wait. He also wasn’t sure if the Slaughter would have left aftereffects on them for when they woke.

When he turned back to Basira, she was just finishing up, removing the car jack from underneath. “This’ll really slow us down, we can’t drive too fast on the spare, but if we find any abandoned cars, maybe we can swap out a tire.” She explained, sounding tired. “I don’t want to lose any more time; we should get going.”

Elias nodded, stiffly walking to the passenger side. “Are you uh, okay to drive, still?” He asked, to which he got a nod to. “If it hadn’t been so long, I’d take a turn driving. Sorry.”

“Not sure I’d trust you anyway, no offense. If we find the others, then I’ll get my rest. Have you got any updates on them?” She asked.

He opened his door and stepped in, squeezing his eyes shut in attempt to summon any power voluntarily, Jon at the forefront of his mind. Nothing. He shook his head in disappointment. “Not getting anything. I… Saw that monster when we were fighting, maybe after some rest, they’ll recharge.” He said.

Basira stepped in, doing up her seatbelt and turning the key in the ignition. She grabbed her phone from the compartment to check it again. “Still no signals, this is bullshit. Hopefully Jon’s powers aren’t messed up, too.” She muttered, putting it away and starting to drive again, straightening out the car and continuing.

Elias shifted uncomfortably, trying to form something to say to her. Basira seemed to sense this, glancing over to him periodically. She gave him time to work it out. “I’m, uh. I’m sorry I froze like that. I almost let you die back there because I didn’t know what to do.” He said slowly.

It was quiet for a long moment, and that nearly killed him. “You worked through it, though.” Basira replied, “You still got moving. You figured it out, and took action. I’d be dead now if you didn’t run out to shoot that thing. You had my back. Thanks.”

He breathed easy, hearing that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Sale: War Centaur Horseshoes, Never Worn.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jonah Magnus offers his two cents that nobody asked for.

The next two hours of driving was uneventful, coasting through the highway as they skirted across the countryside. To their frustration, they hadn’t passed a single car that was worth salvaging a tire from. They found two that were flipped into a ditch, and a road stop they passed had about half a dozen vehicles that looked like they had all been torched. They pushed onward anyway at limited speed, at least thankful that they were able to move at all. Naturally, there are zero cars on the road when you need them most.

Elias even considered their empty landscape to be the work of The Forsaken, but the lack of anyone else inspired more frustration than fear, no matter how strange it was.

The time was dragging on, and hypervigilance, no matter how justified, wasn’t making the time pass any quicker. At a certain point, Basira connected her phone to the speakers to play some music as she drove. The radio still broadcasted nothing, which was concerning, but not surprising—who knew if things like that were to boot back up at any point? Elias brought out two small bags of crisps, handing one to her and eating his own absentmindedly. Salt and vinegar were probably a bad choice to grab first, considering how immediately overwhelming the flavour was on his tongue, but they used to be his favourite. He adjusted well to them after a few minutes, but ate them at a snail’s pace.

The day’s exhaustion caught up to him not long after that. Elias was too tired to keep holding conversation, and Basira likewise; they sat in a comfortable silence. He was sore all over after their encounter with that monster and its army. The gentle pace of the car, and the lull of music in the background had him drifting to sleep eventually.

\--

The lucidity of his dream was more intense than it had business being. He found himself in a dark and empty space, the floor made of some dark and rippling substance that skewed the reflection that it showed of him. Fear gripped his heart and sent it hammering almost immediately; deep down Elias felt exasperation, being scared was truly becoming tiresome. He regarded his reflection below him, noticing the black eye that had only gotten darker, and the grey of his mussed-up hair.

Elias was disappointed in himself that he was seriously _surprised_ when his reflection cocked its head to the side, independent of him. What, was he expecting something that wasn’t a nightmare?

He scrambled backwards with a start, nearly tripping as he did so. As expected, the Elias below had stayed in place, taking some steps away before the space seemed to start to warp. The fluid material of the ground swelled upward, distorting the image of his reflection as it was dragged into it. It made itself into a vaguely humanoid shape, the swirl of the shape inside rearranging itself to fit, and soon enough his reflection was cast into a perfect mold right across from him, clasping its hands together in front of it.

"Well, you certainly made it further than I thought." The thing chuckled, its voice a direct copy of his own. Elias felt the tension in his clenched jaw. The sensation grounded him, but didn't reassure him. It meant that this was more than a nightmare or a twisted memory. This was definitely him. He should have known that he’d have the means to communicate.

"I suppose we can thank the detective for that. Without her, you would have perished an hour into your re-emergence." Jonah continued, starting to leisurely pace about. "Don't you two make such a dynamic duo? Your adventure has been quite entertaining."

"God, I wish you'd shut up." Elias said quietly through his teeth. Jonah only laughed again. As his strides began to trace a circle, he soon stepped behind him and out of sight. Elias didn't care to turn his head. 

"Perhaps I will when you have more to say. I’ve done the talking for both of us for a long time now. You’re still struggling with that, aren’t you? It’s hard work when you don’t practice at it.” He mused. Elias scowled at his patronizing tone.

He was right, though. It was still too easy to fall back into silence. Jonah only ever talked _at_ him, never _with_ him. Until now. He turned his head to the right and locked eyes with the figure pretending to be him. “Do you really have nothing better to do than watch us?” He asked, annoyance apparent in his voice.

“Oh, I can now see much more than before.” As if to demonstrate, the whole room opened its eyes. Every surface of the dark expanse blinked awake with eyes. The colours of the irises varied, though they gave off a painfully bright light, making Elias grunt in discomfort. Their gazes were oppressively intense, like a hundred spotlights. “I never thought about how limited my power was before. It was as if I was looking through a lens. Now, it’s my whole world. Funny that I ever considered knowing everything to be _exhausting_.”

If anything was exhausting, it was this one-sided conversation. He wondered if Jonah knew that as well. If he did, he showed no signs of caring. “Enjoy it while you have it. Can I wake up now? Are we done?” Elias asked.

“Funny. You know your role has finished, but you insist on feebly pretending that you serve a new purpose.” He said, twisting his expression to an ugly grin. It made Elias never want to smile again. “Your only current assets are my eyes that are nestled in your skull, that fail to function properly as you refuse to embrace The Beholding. But even without that, your travel partner is capable enough that she would have figured out what she needed to do, likely in about the same amount of time. Jon and Martin are travelling south anyway, with much more reliable Sight that you could achieve. And once they _do_ find you, who’s to say that you’ll be welcome?”

Elias opened his mouth to object, but came back with nothing. He knew what Jonah was doing, twisting his thoughts and fears. Knowing didn’t make it any less terrible as Jonah stepped uncomfortably close to him, pupils blown wide as if absorbing everything that Elias feared.

“The detective is hesitant to trust you, but being alone during the end of the world seems worse to her. That dilemma will be solved as soon as some familiar faces arrive. Your dead weight won’t be any use aside from a visual reminder of the face they all despise, the face of the one that trapped them, duped them, misled them, _traumatized_ them.” He spat, “Jon might just instinctively Know any useful information you might have, which gives you no leverage. You’re weak enough that it wouldn’t be hard to put you out of your misery, or abandon you on the side of the highway as they decide exactly how to flail about trying to stop what has already begun. Don’t pretend that you’ll have any part in trying to defeat me. You are an old man whose purpose as my vessel has now ended. You’re a cast-aside shell that forgot how to exist without me.”

Elias realized he had started to hyperventilate as Jonah tore into him mentally. He felt crushed under the gaze of the onlookers around the two of them. “I-I’m. I’m not you.” Elias said, voice breaking. “_You’re not me._”

Jonah just gave him that awful smile again. “No, but it was easier when it was. You said that yourself. Your body remembers that well. Right down to its muscle memory.”

Elias backed away from Jonah, only to fall onto his backside seconds after, his knees drawn close to him. His hands were at either side of his head, gripping his hair tightly. He’d forgotten how to blink, or to close his eyes at all, and had no escape from the eyes around him. “Fuck off. Let me out of here.”

He saw Jonah’s shoes as he approached him. He didn’t look up. He didn’t want to see his own face. Never again. “I’ll give you this one for free. Give them all my regards, but do take what I said into consideration. Stop lying to yourself.” Jonah said, crouching down and tapping a finger to Elias’ forehead.

\--

He woke up calmly, which was unexpected after such a dream. His chest still felt tight after what was said to him, and new knowledge buzzing at the forefront of his mind. He rubbed at his eyes, pulling back with curiosity. No blood this time, at least.

He looked over to Basira, who glanced to him for a moment before looking back. “Good sleep?” She asked.

He just shook his head. He looked out the window to still see an empty expanse of road. Looking at the clock, he’d been out for about forty minutes. “Jonah Magnus, uh, says hi.” He muttered. Basira did a double-take.

“You serious? He can do that to you?” She said, some alarm in her tone. “What did he say?”

“A lot of useless bullshit. Some gloating and taunting, the usual.” Elias said. “And Jon and Martin’s location; another hour and they’ll meet us. Jon’s found us, as well.”

Basira kept her eyes forward to the road, silent for a moment, her expression not showing any pleasure. “…Why would Jonah help you find them?”

“I don’t know. He just seems amused to watch us. It sounded like he doesn’t think we can stop this.” He explained, clasping his hands.

“Sounds like him. I don’t like that he can still see us, though.” She grumbled. She glanced back over to Elias. “You alright?”

“Not really.” He replied quietly. “I hope he’s wrong. I hope we can fix everything.”

“Me, too.”

Elias looked out the side window, then further down to the storage space on the door to see a pen rattling inside. He picked it up, as well as a receipt crumpled up in the same bin. He unfolded it and flattened it as best as he could against the dashboard, testing the pen until ink showed, then wrote his name.

It was in Jonah’s neat and elegant cursive.

He wondered how long it would take to rid himself of that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jonah: You know I had to do it to 'em.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reunion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mild cw in this chapter for a vague suicidal ideation!
> 
> Thanks for your patience, I started school this month so this fic was put on the backburner but I'm hoping to finish it relatively soon. Enjoy, and thanks so much for everyone who's been keeping up on this!

“Did you see the others? Do they look alright?” Basira asked, breaking the tense silence that had carried on for some time.

Elias shrugged. “I, uh, couldn’t really tell. They’re alright enough to keep travelling obviously, but I got no details. Sorry.”

“Nothing’s changed, then. Even when he hands out information, the prick remains as vague as possible.” She scoffed. If he were in a positive, less groggy state, he would have laughed at that. “Just, knowing Jon was the centre of this—I don’t want to be surprised by anything.”

“…Do you think he’s become a monster?”

Basira wore a deep frown, staring forward at the road. “He’s been one for a while, hasn’t he? Maybe he _looks_ like one now, too. Not that wild of a thing to consider.” She muttered.

“You don’t blame him for this, do you...?” Elias asked hesitantly. She just rolled her eyes.

“I know who to blame this time, Elias. I know he didn’t want this.” She snipped. “Monsters are everywhere now, but people were turning into them for way longer. Jon did, unwillingly. I watched Daisy turn right in front of me.”

Basira was wearing that hard expression, like she was trying to make up for whatever vulnerable feelings she had deeper down. Elias opened his mouth to speak, but found himself unsure of what to say. He couldn’t argue with her point. She continued, somewhat more calmly after a second. “It’s okay if he’s a monster, as long as he’s still on our side, and not eating people. I just want to be prepared in case he suddenly has more eyes than before.”

“Okay. I, uh, see what you mean. Sorry for implying—” He said, backing down.

“It’s fine. I didn’t mean to be like that.” Basira said, quieter. “Just feel like I’m not in control of anything. I’m tired of surprises, I miss having a handle on things. I… miss Daisy.”

He nodded solemnly to her. There wasn’t anything he could say to make that better. She did seem to lose some tension in her shoulders by saying it out loud, though.

Around the next bend, the two saw headlights on the opposite road in the distance. They glanced at each other before intently focusing forward again. Finally, was it them? The sky was growing dim, leaving details in the distance hard to make out. Not that it mattered, neither of them knew what car Jon and Martin had, they wouldn’t know who it was unless they pulled over and showed themselves. Basira flashed the high-beams a couple times, slowing and pulling to the side of the grassy median, waiting for the other car to approach.

It did appear to slow down, until it was clear to see that they intended to stop at the median as well. From the passenger seat, Jon seemed to half-tumble out to approach. He looked more or less the same, perhaps a bit higher strung than ever before. Basira killed the engine and stepped out, glancing around before approaching. They made it. Martin stepped out as well to convene, the three chattering away about something, likely catching up. Martin looked anxious; Jon looked permanently apologetic.

The cool air that creeped in brought Elias back to himself, and suddenly he realized he should probably get out of this car now, too. 

Oh, god. He didn’t think he would get this far. Surviving was busy work, and he hadn’t planned for what to _actually_ say upon meeting them.

Jonah’s little chat with him echoed in his head. He remembered what his own face meant to everyone here. He thought about what his meaning was beyond that. What was there now?

He took a big shaky breath in, steeling himself. _’That’s how Jonah wants me to think. Let’s just get out of the damn car already. Get it over with.’_ He thought to himself, undoing the seatbelt and opening his door, and hesitantly stepping toward the trio. “—How did you know we were coming?” Elias overheard Martin say before his attention was pulled away from Basira. With Martin and Jon looking at him, he felt the weight of the last few years pressing down on him; where was he to begin? What could he possibly say right now?

He didn’t have to worry about that, apparently, as Martin wordlessly approached him and punched his lights out.

\--

“Christ. I’m—sorry? I’m so sorry. Sorry.” Martin blathered as Elias came to a couple seconds after. Basira apparently half-caught him before he fell over, and lowered him a bit more gently into the grass.

Elias blearily looked up at the others. Martin was covering his mouth. Basira had a vague look of concern, but it dropped as he seemed to gather himself. Jon looked somewhat static as he looked down at him. Aside from his left eye feeling even more swollen and tender now, Elias recovered well enough. The immediate pain brought his attention away from the rest of his aching body, anyway.

“I’m so sorry, I thought it was—Jon, did you not know he was with her!? You could have warned me!” Martin exclaimed.

“I didn’t— I didn’t know either, until I saw him! I was just looking for Basira! I didn’t focus on any details.” Jon stammered out, his trance broken.

Martin looked like he was trying to gauge the validity of that excuse, before turning back to Elias, red in the face from embarrassment as Basira helped pull him back to his feet. “I’m so sorry. I thought you were—the other one.” He said.

Elias just shrugged. “It’s fine. The first bruise is from Basira, actually.” He said. From the corner of his good eye, he saw her conspicuously turn her head away.

Maybe it was because he was still dazed, but this was more comical than it had business being. It was one hell of an ice-breaker, anyway.

“Jon, did you say you didn’t see him?” Basira asked, looking back to him.

Jon scratched at the side of his head, looking down. “That was unintentional—ah, well, I…” He trailed off, sorting out his words. “I _intentionally_ limited my powers as much as possible— I’m trying to whenever I can help it. I wanted to find you, so all I focused on was where you were and if you were alive. I filtered out everything else, including your… travel partner.”

Elias stood slightly hunched, leaning on the side of Basira’s car. Jon’s gaze turned to him, his eyes seemingly bright with wariness and curiosity. Maybe it was the nature of their affiliation, or maybe it was because he was the Archivist, but Elias felt small under his observation. He wondered how much he Knew about him, now.

“Magnus let you go, then.” He said.

“For the most part.” Elias replied slowly. “He uh, sort of, promoted himself out of my body.”

“And the eyes?” Martin asked, looking cautious.

“World’s worst souvenir.”

Martin didn’t seem fully convinced, but he trusted Jon enough to figure that there wasn’t a threat in front of him. Elias could tell he still had his guard up—could he blame him? He awkwardly moved his gaze toward Basira, hoping for some form of better facilitation of this encounter.

“We should get out of the open, get some rest somewhere. Can we take your car? Mine’s on a spare tire.” She asked.

Martin nodded, seemingly eager to switch the subject. “Yeah, sure—there’s room in the boot for whatever you two have. We passed some houses a few minutes up the road that looked empty, we might luck out with them. I’ll pull up closer.” He started to walk back to his own car, and after a moment of hesitation, Jon followed suit. Basira turned to open up the backseat of hers.

“Just take the backpacks, I’ll get the heavier stuff.” She said. Elias felt confused about it until he remembered his age. Now, _that_, he wasn’t going to get used to.

He slung his backpack over the shoulder that hurt the least, and clutched Basira’s bag in front of him. She stacked two blankets on top of it for him (wow, she really took preparation seriously.), and she filled her arms with the flat of water bottles and the bag of snacks as they waited for the others to bring their car closer. Martin made a show of driving his vehicle over the grass and turning it around on their side of the highway, then stepped out again to pop open the trunk. Elias tucked the bags and blankets off to the left of the empty trunk. Basira grabbed a second armful of things—a heavier seeming duffel bag, likely her weapons stash—and then closed it, stepping into the backseat of Martin’s car with Elias. The backseat was vacant for the two of them, aside from a cardboard box in the middle.

“You two didn’t pack anything?” She said, looking up at Martin in the front seat.

“Yeah, we had to leave the safehouse in a hurry. We could only save the statements.” Martin said as he started to accelerate.

“What happened?” Elias asked.

It was silent for a few tense seconds before Jon looked over. “The Buried.” He said.

“Shit.” Basira muttered. That explained why they left at all. Regrouping was a necessity, not just a choice, obviously. She leaned to the side to better look at Jon in the seat in front of her. “Jon, I heard about what happened. I’m… sorry we didn’t realize sooner.”

Elias saw Jon just look down into his lap, giving a grunt and a nod to indicate he heard her, but nothing else.

The next few minutes were tense and quiet. Basira looked exhausted, likely happy to not be driving anymore. Jon and Martin seemed taut with anxiety. Elias made eye contact with Martin through the mirror and abruptly turned his head to face the window. Guilt washed over him, knowing what memories Martin probably associated with his face. Now, that face was in the car with him. With the year they’ve had, how much time as anyone had to move past such deliberate acts of trauma and manipulation?

What could he say to make this better? What could he do? What could even be fixed? They still had no plan aside from survive.

“These are the ones I saw—” Martin piped up, turning off the highway to a smaller street with a row of houses, large spaces between the green yards, all windows dark in the fading evening light. “I have a feeling they’re all empty. Don’t know how great of a sign that is, but…”

Elias’s vision sparked painfully, he saw a mist crawl over the secluded, tiny neighborhood, before rolling away again and leaving the place barren. _Empty._ “It’s passed. It’ll be safe for now.” He said, rubbing his unbruised eye gently. Martin looked back at him again, seemingly contemplating that answer, before pulling in to the closest driveway.

\--

They took their backpacks in, as well as the statements, deciding to leave the food in the car as the fridge was thankfully full inside the house, with plenty still edible even after the power was out for a day. The four took turns touring the kitchen, grabbing whatever looked good. Martin found bread that hadn’t gone stale, slicing it up for everyone. Elias watched him root through the cabinet for something to put on it, making a face of disgust when he found a jar of peach jam that he shoved to the back, grabbing raspberry instead, as well as the butter dish on the counter.

Elias opted for nibbling at plain bread, and had an apple on the table in front of him, staring at it as if he didn’t know what to do with it.

Jon and Basira finished eating quickly, then left the kitchen to start a search for some candles together before it got too dark. Elias had a feeling they were also hoping for a private chat. Made sense.

Which left him at the table diagonally across from Martin. Suddenly, he wished he was a ghost again. Martin looked like he was wishing the same.

“Sorry again about the eye—” He muttered into a glass of water, sipping slowly before putting it down in front of him again. “Just, after everything that’s happened, I thought I had a chance that I couldn’t lose.”

“It’s alright. Honestly, I’d uh, gladly be beaten to a pulp if it meant the asshole could feel it.” He replied. “After what he did to you…”

“So, you were there too. You saw.” Elias nodded, and Martin’s face went pale. “You know at one point, I really thought that Jane Prentiss was the worst thing to ever happen to me. I never expected Elias—Jonah, to hurt me worse. Melanie was a wreck after, but she hid the worst of it well enough. Even after playing into his and Peter’s stupid wager, I didn’t think he could do any more harm than he already did.”

“You were brave with that plan, distracting him yourself. We both underestimated you, Martin.” Elias said. Martin seemed to go rigid as his name was said, and he felt a pang of guilt, seeing it. “I’m so sorry. For everything he’s done.”

The other shrugged, cradling his glass of water in his hands. “It’s not your fault, you weren’t the one who did this.”

“But I saw all of it.” Elias whispered. “Being awake for every second that he was—I could be distant from what he was doing, but I still had to see it all…be his _figurehead_ to destroy all of your lives. I lost my will to fight, but I remember wishing so badly that Gertrude’s plan didn’t fall through. I wish I could have done more than just pity everybody that got involved.”

Martin looked at him, frowning lightly like he was trying to puzzle him out. His expression relaxed into a tired look after a second, and he sighed. “I know I’m probably wrong, but part of me still thinks this is all some big stupid trick.” He said, making Elias’s heart sink. “That you’ll reveal yourself as soon as you get us to drop our guard; do something more disastrous than the end of the world, and then be all smug about how you won. Even though, I don’t think even Jonah Magnus could drop his composure or dignity for a bluff. I mean, you were in prison for a year and had the audacity to be perfectly fine with it.”

“…Can I convince you otherwise? What can I do?” He asked.

“Nothing.” Martin said. “But it’s okay. I know Basira has as many reasons to hate Eli—Jonah as I do, and she still brought you. I trust her and Jon, but I need time to be sure for myself. Maybe once I get used to looking at you. I—um, sorry, you don’t have any nicknames, do you…?”

Elias bit his lip, getting what he was implying. He shook his head. He wanted to help Martin trust him, but not at the cost of the only identity he had left. Thankfully, he seemed to sense this.

“I’ll get used to it. Forget that I asked.” Martin said, letting him breathe easier. “So… why you? Do you know why Jonah picked you?”

“Mostly rotten luck,” Elias said, after a moment of thought. “I have a feeling that my matching shoe size and general build played a part, though.”

Martin snorted at that. “What, did he not want to sell off his old wardrobe?”

“He owns numerous three-piece suits. Ones so expensive that you’d puke.” Elias explained. “And my clothes were out of the question. I abandoned the dress code when I realized nobody was firing me for any of my worse offenses. I owned nothing but floral button-ups.” That got Martin laughing more. Elias couldn’t bring himself to smile, but the memory did entertain him.

It got quiet again for a few seconds, and Elias noted Jon’s footsteps up above them. “How is Jon doing?” He asked quietly.

“He’s not handling it well.” Martin replied, sobering. “He… asked me to kill him yesterday. Thought that maybe he could reverse this all if he was dead. I talked him out of that line of thinking. Having nothing to do wasn’t helping. It was almost a good thing that the safehouse got swallowed up; having to move and regroup gave him a goal, a next step to get to. With more of us together, maybe we can make a plan.”

He nodded slowly. He could only imagine how heavy the burden must be on Jon. He probably needed the hope to fix everything more than anyone here. “We’ll figure something out.”

“We will. We have to.” Martin said.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Support and solidarity, and plans to save the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a note: Some more talk of suicidal ideation in this chapter. Thanks for reading!

“Are you going to eat that apple, or just stare holes into it?” Martin asked.

“Uh, not sure yet.” Elias said, holding his focus on it. “Trying to remember what apples taste like before I take a bite. Eating has been… an event for me since I’ve been back.”

Martin looked puzzled. “Weren’t you awake this whole time? You said so earlier.”

“Apparently to be a ‘ceaseless watcher’, you don’t need taste or general sensation.” He replied, gesturing with air-quotes as he did so. “I’m just expecting it to be overwhelming.”

Martin looked back to the counters in the kitchen area, standing up to retrieve a knife stored away in a block, then sliding it gently over to him on the table. “Cut it up first, maybe?” He suggested.

“That’s, uh, yeah, a smarter idea. Thank you.” He said, taking it and carefully slicing out a piece for himself.

Martin nodded to him, watching quietly back at his seat across from him. “Was it your idea, or Basira’s, to come find us?” He asked.

Elias could sense a test in that question. He told himself not to feel upset by it; Martin already told him that he needed time to be sure. He just needed to tell the truth. “My idea, though Basira probably would have left to find you two even if I didn’t show up. I just had a head start on knowing the situation once it all came into motion.”

“So, you know Jon can stop this all?”

“I don’t.” He said, apologetically. “Jonah obviously didn’t care to know of any blatant fail-safe for this mess. It’s mainly a hunch that Jon can do something. Just makes sense to me.”

“I guess you’re right.” Martin said, looking down at his glass. “…I read Jonah’s ‘statement’. It’s always been him. Start to finish.”

Elias nodded, recalling his vague curiosity in what Jonah was doing to the man back in the Institute days. With Prentiss’ attack, Elias just thought it was cruelty that kept him from immediately releasing the gas to save his archive workers. But then it kept happening. Like observing a trial test, Jonah kept watching idly as Jon was thrown into more scenarios, each nightmare worse than the next. The end result wasn’t clear to Elias, but he knew it wasn’t good.

“He didn’t deserve this. Nobody does.” He said, after a stretch of quiet. He went back to cutting the apple in front of him, raising a bite-size piece to his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. It was a wash of sweetness and satisfying texture; a little much for his sensitized self, but probably still the best thing he’s had. Thankfully he didn’t start coughing or sputtering in front of Martin across from him.

Jon and Basira returned, trudging down the stairs with about eight candles between them. Elias couldn’t tell if they looked better or worse than before. The tension seemed to be less, but they both looked sullen. His Sight flared up, filling his eyes with the image of them upstairs from moments ago, angry faces streaked with tears they can’t hold back. _Grieving for the world. Grieving for Daisy._ His dull headache intensified, and he grabbed his forehead instinctively. Involuntarily viewing that moment hit him with a pang of guilt. That was their private moment. But of course, the Eye just loves those, doesn’t it?

Elias found Jon looking at him intently as he recovered from his headache. Did Jon Know what he was seeing? It was hard to read him.

“So. We should get some sort of plan together.” Basira said, voice level. She sat back down, and Jon followed suit, back to his spot next to Martin. The three of them all looked at her with curiosity, she sighed softly. “I’d love to start with killing Magnus, but that’s probably even more complicated than before.”

“Did his original body… reanimate?” Martin asked hesitantly.

“Maybe? It was hard to tell with all the, uh…” Elias trailed off, shuddering at the memory. “All the eyes.”

“There must be others who aren’t thrilled about this.” Martin added, seemingly eager to change the subject. “Jonah wouldn’t have had enemies if his plan benefitted everyone else.”

“Some never cared about rituals—” Jon said, “Terminus and the Spider liked the world how it was. But who’s to say it wasn’t because they knew this was coming?”

“You think they could have insight?” Basira asked, turning her head to Jon.

He shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. “Maybe. The Web presumably just always knows more than everyone, and Hilltop Road still has some unresolved mysteries I’m curious about. Though, I’m not sure any Spiders are worth the risk of approaching. Annabelle did tell us not to come back.”

Elias remembered a couple of different occasions where Annabelle confronted Jonah. One time for a ‘friendly’ chat, another time to accost him in his own home after he apparently stepped too far out of line for The Mother’s liking. They would only tolerate so much of his meddling. That was one of the more blatantly dangerous situations Jonah was ever caught in; even Elias was worried, in his ghostly state. He’d never seen that many spiders in a single space before. Didn’t care to again if he could help it.

Basira and Martin seemed quiet in thought, neither looking optimistic about confronting The Web. She spoke again, “What about the other one?”

“The only one I’ve met was Oliver—well, I was in a coma when I met him.” Jon said. “He… could be of interest. I don’t know how dangerous he is, but as far as I remember, nobody from The End has actively posed a threat to us.”

“Do you think he’s still alive—wait, stupid question. Is he around?”

“Probably. He shouldn’t be too hard for me to find, if he is. He gave me his statement.” Jon said. He looked uncomfortable, hesitating as he spoke up again, “I don’t think I can try yet. I’m a little weak.”

Basira nodded. “It’s fine. We need rest before heading anywhere else, anyway. We should take it, assuming this place stays safe.”

Martin stood up and made his way to the box of files left against the wall. Jon’s eyes followed him tiredly, then fixated on the box with a vaguely nauseated expression. “Do you want me with you again…?” Martin asked him quietly, and Jon nodded. “I’ll just stay with Jon, if you’ll excuse us.”

\--

Jon and Martin shut themselves in the office, the soft murmuring of reading heard from inside. Basira and Elias kept themselves busy by exploring the other empty rooms, gathering blankets and pillows from the two bedrooms upstairs and dragging them to the main floor. Basira insisted it was safer, to not be trapped upstairs if something comes their way. They also drew the curtains shut, and lit candles and spread them through the dim space.

There were two large sofas as well as a recliner, and a small bed was tucked into the spare room. Nothing luxurious, but still more than they can ask for during the end times. Who knew when they could get better rest, seeing as tracking down others could take them just about anywhere?

About half an hour later, Jon and Martin emerged from the office, catching Elias and Basira’s attention as they finished doling out pillows among the sleeping arrangements.

“Oliver Banks is still in England. Outside a village called Langtoft. Few hours southeast from here.” Jon said, voice sounding steadier than before. “He’s not thrilled about current events.”

That was about the most reassuring news they could get, surprisingly. “Do you think he’d help us?” Basira asked.

Jon shrugged. “It’s worth a shot to ask. Only fitting for an avatar of The End to know something on how to stop this.”

“I didn’t know you were the poetic type, Jon.” Martin snorted lightly next to him.

“I’m not—well, I suppose it sounds that way, doesn’t it.” Jon said, looking slightly flustered.

Basira looked somewhat entertained, but decided to save Jon by switching gears. “We can leave in the morning, then. Try to get some rest here before we head out. I’ll take the bedroom, I need privacy. Just knock on the door and give me time to answer if you need something.”

Elias remembered what sleeping was like the last two times, and felt his throat tighten up a bit. “I—uh, I can keep watch for a few hours. I slept some on the drive already.” He piped up. The others looked unconvinced, especially with how ragged and bruised he looked. “I should probably wait before sleeping anyway, if it was a concussion I got earlier. I can wake one of you up when I need to switch.”

The three others seemed to accept that answer, then slowly, they shuffled to figure out sleeping arrangements. Basira shut herself into the room, and Martin and Jon curled up together on one of the sofas. Elias retreated upstairs with his bag to change into his other set of clothes, grimacing at the blood stains and scuffs. It was easy to forget how much had happened in a day and a half. The claw marks at his shoulder were just achy scabs, his face was something of a blue and purple mess on the left side, his eyes bloodshot, and the bags underneath slightly red from what he assumed was blood again. His entire abdomen and back felt bruised, even if it didn’t seem to be showing quite yet. 

He stayed upstairs, deciding he could keep an eye on the surrounding outside from the upper windows. And leave the others with better privacy. No need to inadvertently traumatize anyone further by having them wake up to Elias Bouchard looming over them. He idly padded from room to room, watching out different windows for anything worrying.

About an hour later was when Elias heard footsteps. He turned to the door from his seat at the window, ready to insist that he could watch for longer. The words died in his throat when he saw Jon’s face peeking through.

“I… don’t really like sleeping either, these days.” Jon said softly. “Mind if I join you?”

Elias nodded, gesturing him in, and he took a seat at the edge of the bed. The two sat in a tense silence, unsure of where to begin. Eventually, Jon broke the quiet.

“I remember investigating you, after the Prentiss incident, and knowing something was off.” Jon said, looking down at the carpet. “I just never had time to look more into him, to figure out what was happening.”

“Jonah made sure of that. He wanted to keep you occupied with every problem except him.” Elias replied. “If you figured out his real identity, his real schemes could have been figured out too soon. Though he was never good at subtlety.”

“How do you mean?”

“Aside from _knowing_ everything he needed to impersonate me, he’s no actor. He barely made an effort to seem like me. Likely had too much pride to stoop to my level.” He explained, “When he switched to me, I was basically ‘the new James Wright’ to everybody. Anyone smart enough to know there was something wrong kept it to themselves.”

“I’m sorry. Being forgotten—being _replaced,_ is an awful fate.” Jon said. The sympathy in his voice made his insides turn. “I should have figured this all out sooner. I should have stopped him; I shouldn’t have played into his trap so easily like this.”

“Nobody saw it coming, Jon. He was swimming up to his eyes in secrets, he was much better than anyone else at hiding them.” He reassured him, “It’s not your fault that he used you. It’s his.”

“He used all my humanity against me. To find the truth, to save Sasha, to save the world, save Daisy, save Martin…” Jon said miserably. “Well, maybe I can end it. If nothing else, Oliver Banks could probably be capable of—”

“—You shouldn’t.” Elias blurted, pausing to compose himself as Jon looked up at him. “I- I’m sure there’s another way. You shouldn’t have to die to fix this. He’s taken enough away from you.”

“Whatever the solution is, it won’t be easy.” He said. “I’ll do it if I have to. I could make the right choice this time.”

He could see why Martin expressed such concern before. “I don’t think you made the wrong choice, Jon. But you deserve better than having to die for it now. We’ll find a way.”

Jon seemed like he didn’t know how to argue with that one, but he looked like he was trying for a couple seconds. “…Thank you. I hope there is a better option.” He said quietly. The two stayed quiet for a little longer, as if waiting for the heavy emotions of their conversation to disperse. “What do you plan on doing, if we put an end to this? If we kill him?”

Elias shrugged, looking back out the window at the road. “If I wasn’t old and uh, bad at being corporeal, I’d love to kill him myself.” He said, entertaining the thought. “Might just settle for getting rid of his eyes, in case he tries to jump back into them.”

“Are you prepared for that?” Jon asked.

“No, but I won’t risk letting him take me again. Killing every part of that bastard, and then outliving him would be a treat.” Elias said, his tone casual. “Take that smug look off his face during his victory lap.”

“I’d like to see that, too.” Jon said. “With his eyes—you’ve had some powers, haven’t you? How connected to him are you?”

Elias nodded. “It’s all been haywire. Just random flashes of knowledge, both useful and not. Jonah seems to have a solid connection to me, but he’s implied that he can see much more than before.”

“Has he talked to you?” Jon looked concerned as he asked.

“Once, earlier today in a dream. When I was sleeping in Basira’s car.” He said, “He mostly just showed up to gloat and play some psychological self-doubt games. Tried to convince me that you three wouldn’t have me around. Embrace the Beholding, and the apocalypse, blah blah blah.”

“That’s…” Jon said, trailing off, “Odd. Does he hope to keep his old eyes safe?”

“He originally left me for dead, so it’s hard to say. Maybe having me with your lot doesn’t sit well with him.” Elias thought aloud, then laughed to himself. “Well, he’s an idiot if he thinks I’m still going to his side. We both know what bullshit happens when he offers promotions, can’t take us for suckers twice.”

Jon laughed as well. “That’s true.” He said softly. “I know people like us rarely meet in good circumstances, but I’m glad to meet you, Elias.”

Elias sat, stunned for a moment, but he eventually relaxed to a smile. “Glad to meet you too, Jon. One sucker to another.” He answered. “Let’s make sure the bastard loses this time.”

Jon nodded to him, and they fell into a comfortable quiet this time, milling about the upstairs, checking through the various windows. It was staying safe, so far. Perhaps it would be the most peace they’d get.

After another hour of idly keeping watch, Elias begrudgingly decided he should maybe give in and try for some sleep. Jon, who looked awake and alert, seemed to sense this. “I can keep watch, if you want to try sleeping. Will you be okay?” He asked.

Elias shrugged. “Probably. If Jonah shows up, I can tell him how his manipulation was bullshit. I’m curious to see what other cards he has to play against me now.” He said. “Thank you.”

He left Jon upstairs by the window, and descended back to the ground floor. Basira’s door was closed, and Martin was obscured by blankets, snoring gently. He crept over to the other sofa, throwing the thin, soft blanket over himself. Whatever nightmares Jonah wanted to send to him didn’t matter.

When he woke up in the morning, he was going to help save the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GOD this was so much dialogue.
> 
> Anyways, to everyone who stuck around to read this fic, thank you so much. I really hope I stuck the landing! I could have definitely gone farther with this but I didn't want to go too crazy with plot divergence, and I wanted to wrap this fic up before season 5 is upon us!
> 
> This is the most writing I've done in my life, which is really exciting. It was so much fun, and all your comments and everything have been so validating and encouraging. Thank you! If you wanna follow me on tumblr, I'm @mylemonginger. I post a shitton of TMA stuff lately, and likely will be over the s5 mayhem. Love y'all, stay safe, enjoy the canon apocalypse that will be upon us in April! I'm so fucking scared/excited.


	11. Epilogue snippets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While this story is for sure done, I've had just some fun little ideas of scenes to add in. Mostly just silly little scenes, I may make more! Enjoy!

Elias, with his head leaning against the cool window of the car, absentmindedly watched the scenery pass as Jon drove. Part of him felt bad for getting jaded to the state of the world; with reality seemingly coated in wrongness, and eyes erupting from the sky like a colony of blisters. They had driven past some farmland about an hour ago, seeing some sort of amalgamation of livestock animals into one giant rolling ball of meat with legs protruding from every angle. The four of them in the car had the audacity to not be terrified, instead only regarding it with disgust and pressing harder on the gas to leave it behind quicker.

If everything went right, they could reverse all of this, and try to forget about this worldwide nightmare. Make those terrors an odd rare happening again, instead of an everyday thing. Unless permanently vanquishing the embodiment of fears was an option. Probably not, but who knows?

Elias mainly entertained that thought due to Jonah trying to drill pessimism into his head the previous night, before they left the house.

\--

_”The state of the world will only intensify as time goes on. You have only survived thus far due to dumb luck.” Jonah explained, masquerading as Elias again in that same space as the previous dream. “This isn’t a ritual in progress; what’s done is done. You cannot stop this.”_

_“Well, you also said that I would be left to die once we found Martin and Jon.” Elias retorted. He dreaded falling asleep, just knowing he’d be in this dream with him again. He was still scared, the surrounding eyes of the room making him feel exposed and vulnerable. But this time he didn’t feel so small. “You were wrong about that, so obviously not everything you say has merit.”_

_Jonah’s eye twitched, but otherwise he kept his calm. “I’m only trying to save you from having your unrealistic hopes dashed. Get used to this place, instead of scrambling about and driving in any direction that might bring you a solution that doesn’t exist.”_

_“Oh, shut up. I don’t care.” Elias said, frowning. “You were in my head for twenty years, and never stopped saying the exact same bullshit. I’m telling you now that we’re going to stop this; and if we can’t, we’ll at least stop you.”_

_“Have you not been paying attention? I’ve become much more powerful than before. There isn’t anything that I can’t see anymore. How do you expect to gain any sort of advantage against me?” He laughed, watching Elias with a patronizing grin. He wondered briefly if he’d feel it if he tried to punch him._

_“Maybe it’ll be funnier if you see it coming, and we still manage to.” Elias shrugged._

_Now Jonah seemed to be losing his patience, frowning and seemingly tensing up. “Then, you’d better be prepared. Are you truly ready to lose your sight, just to be rid of me? Even if you could stop me, as long as my eyes are there, I can always return and take you as a host. I can shove you back to the far reaches of your own brain, and never let you out again.”_

_“Jonah, I’ll scoop your eyes out with a spoon and eat them in front of you, if the opportunity arises.” He barked at him. “And if I can’t, then any of the others can just shoot me dead. You can keep going on about how powerful you are, but The Eye has never been known for strength.”_

_True anger flared in Jonah’s face. Letting him be the one frustrated and out of control was cathartic, to say the least. He didn’t hear what he said next, and frankly didn’t care to. He found the dream fading away by that point anyway, as the footsteps of the others in the house stirred him awake._

\--

The eyes in the sky seemed to always be affixed on them, it seemed. Perhaps it was a coincidence, or deliberate. Maybe at every angle, they seemed to be watching everyone in the world simultaneously. They were probably the source of Jonah’s now omnipotence.

Hm.

“Hey, uh, can I open the window for a second?” Elias asked from the backseat, an idea coming to mind. Basira beside him gave him a puzzled look, but he saw everyone’s heads nod yes to his request. He pushed the button and let his window roll down, the breeze whipped up from the highway lashing against his face. He extended his hand out, and held a middle finger up to the sky.

Everyone was quiet, watching him. Even Jon glanced over from the wheel to see Elias’ gesture.

“Is—is that meant for Jonah?” Martin asked, chuckling.

Elias shrugged. “He keeps saying he sees everything now.”

Almost in unison, the other three rolled down their windows and followed suit.


End file.
